#curtain stain removal service

[captaincurtaincleaningadelaide]

[carpetcleaningecopower]

Mastering Drapery Maintenance: Professional Insights for Immaculate Curtains

Sophisticated draperies can elevate the ambiance of any space, yet they often attract dust, allergens, and various stains. From accidental coffee spills to marks left by greasy fingers, maintaining the elegance of your curtains demands expertise and diligence. This guide delivers professional insights into drapery cleaning, aimed at preserving the flawless appearance of your window dressings from the outset.

https://ecopowersteamcarpetcleaning.com/drapery-cleaning/

Routine Care Practices

Initiating an effective drapery cleaning regime begins with consistent care. Employing an upholstery brush attachment to vacuum your draperies on a weekly basis can drastically minimize dust build-up. For more delicate fabrics, a light shake may suffice to free the dust without the necessity of vacuuming.

Fabric Type Consideration

Prioritizing stain removal entails a thorough understanding of your drapery's material. It's imperative to consult the care label for tailored drapery cleaning directions. Depending on the fabric, some curtains may require professional dry cleaning, whereas others are suitable for careful machine or hand washing.

Prompt Spill Management

In the event of a spill, swift action is essential to avert lasting stains. Lightly blotting the affected area with a clean, absorbent cloth is advisable—vigorous rubbing might further ingrain the stain. For stains soluble in water, applying a diluted detergent solution gently to the spot, followed by dabbing with a moist cloth to eliminate soap traces, is recommended.

Addressing Oil-Based Marks

Oil-based blemishes, including grease or cosmetic stains, demand a distinct approach. Lightly tap the stain with a clean cloth dampened with a bit of dry cleaning solution, working inward to deter spreading. Conduct a preliminary test of the solvent on a less visible section to verify its safety for the fabric's color.

Identifying When Expertise is Needed

In cases of extensively soiled, fragile, or costly draperies, seeking professional drapery cleaning services is wise. Specialists possess the means to eradicate stubborn stains, such as those from wine or ink, employing fabric-appropriate techniques and cleaning agents.

Advantages of Expert Cleaning Services

Professional drapery cleaning not only assures thorough stain removal but also can prolong the lifespan of your curtains, restoring their original splendor without jeopardizing the fabric. Moreover, many professional services conveniently offer to pick up and deliver, simplifying the process.

Ensuring your draperies remain pristine is key to both the visual and healthful quality of your living space. Adhering to these professional drapery cleaning recommendations and recognizing when to involve experts allows you to maintain your curtains in an impeccable state, contributing to the overall beauty and ambiance of your home.

[citycarpetcleaningadelaide]

Curtain Cleaning Services in Adelaide

At City Carpet Cleaning Adelaide, we are committed to renewing the elegance of your curtains. Let us handle the cleaning, allowing you to enjoy the fresh, vibrant look of your curtains. Our technicians are highly skilled and experienced, ensuring your curtains receive the care they deserve. We handle all types of fabrics with utmost precision. Contact City Carpet Cleaning Adelaide today and witness the transformation of your curtains through expert cleaning and dedicated service.

[captaincurtaincleaningperth]

[twola]

Congratulations on the 1k followers 🥳🎉 it is so deserved. As your requests are open I wondered if you would be interested in writing a follow up to "In The French Way", with either Arthur giving or receiving? Your pick! It's my firm belief that Arthur is an ass man and I would love to see more of that in fics.

Thank you for you continued service to cowboy horniness 🫡

Ask and ye shall receive, my dear @readingcoco 🍑

In the French Way II

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Previous | Next

cw: anal sex, cowboy giving.

Skin to skin, he’s so warm pressed against your back in the bed, his hips instantly pressing forward into yours, the long line of his cock flush against your ass. 

The morning light trickles through the curtained windows, the street outside slowly coming to life with the sounds of city life - horses and people and the ring of the trolley bell a few blocks away.

But here, locked away in the temporary sanctuary the two of you have built, the idea of leaving bed is far from anyone’s mind.

Arthur takes a greedy handful of your rear, spreading you and pressing his cock to settle between your cheeks, rolling his hips forward. He suckles on your earlobe as his hands roam all over your body.

The sheets have been kicked fully off the bed and crumbled on the floor, unneeded in the humid, warm Lemoyne night. Besides, the two of you had thoroughly stained them after many rounds last night.

“Can I-...” he trails off, one hand still firmly on your hip. 

You roll your hips backward, along his cock, rubbing yourself against him, “Can you what?” you breathe out, enjoying the press of him against your rear.

Arthur groans as you slide yourself up and down his cock, seemingly losing the power of speech for a moment. 

“Can you what, Arthur?”

He surges forward, pressing the length of him against you completely, and whispers into your ear as he squeezes your hip hard.

“Can I have y’ here?”

A roll of his hips for effect. He withdraws his cock from its place against you and his hand trails down from your hip, making you gasp aloud as he slides a finger to press against puckered skin, not too hard- not delving inside, but enough to prove a point.

“I- I ain’t never done that… taken a cock….” You stutter but have to admit to yourself that you crave more of this touch, as he runs his finger up and down the skin around your rear opening in a way reminiscent of you and him last night, when he accepted your touches that bled into accepting you in his body.

“I’ll be gentle. You was gentle with me - let me return the favor.”

You’re panting as the pad of his finger rubs, up and down, the puckered skin so sensitive that it makes you shiver and your cunt wetter.

“Al-alright.” You stammer, but he does not make any moves to press forward.

“Only if you want to, sweetheart.” Arthur removes his hand, skimming it over your hip again, gentle and calming, “ ‘only if it’ll make you feel good.”

You pause, biting your tongue as your cunt clenches around nothing, wanting him to return his hand to where it was. 

“Let’s try.”

Arthur leans closer and nibbles at your earlobe as he groans, a full-throated rumble from his chest. He presses his cock against your ass hard, slipping lengthwise between your cheeks without assistance from his hand.

His hand moves forward from your hip, snaking between your thighs to your cunt. You uncontrollably open your legs for him, mewling as he strokes your damp skin.

“Gonna have you come for me first.”

Arthur finds the bundle of nerves and gently rubs at it, you gasp as you press back against him, your head tipping backward against his shoulder with his ministrations.

It’s several minutes like that - you feel like you could drown and he increases the tempo to make you a quivering, sobbing mess by the time he moves his fingers down and gently presses two of them inside your cunt. You come immediately, shaking, gasping, moaning against him as he kisses up and down your neck.

By the time you can catch your breath, he pulls his hand from you gently, unwinding himself from the embrace he had you in to roll out of bed, stepping over discarded clothing to get to his satchel, rifling through it as you turn around in bed.

“What’re you doin’?” You ask breathily.

“Gettin’ somethin’ to make it easier.” He grunts back at you as you admire his naked form, his pale skin usually hidden by his clothes, the scars and marks that tell his story.

He drops the satchel back to the floor when he finds what he is looking for, turning back to the bed. You cannot help but smile when you see his cock jutting out from his pelvis, rigid and hard for you.

Arthur slides back into the bed next to you and starts prying off the lid of the small tin he obtained.

“What’s that?” You ask, peering down at it.

“ ‘s a balm. Now c’mon girl, turn around and lemme make you feel good.”

One large hand clamps on your hip and pushes you to turn around again, facing away from him.

He rubs the balm, warm between his fingers, against your skin, and you gasp as the slippery substance is spread around the puckered skin of your opening. He plays with you for a few moments, and you try to swallow back mewls of pleasure before he slips his pointer finger inside, gently, slowly breaching the ring of muscle at your opening. You shiver as he slides his finger deeper, all the way to the knuckle, circling within you slowly.

“Y’okay?”

“Mhm.” You mumble, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. You press your hips backward to take his finger deeper. He kisses down your neck to the curve of where it meets your shoulder.

He groans as he sinks a second finger into you, you shudder at the stretch. After several moments of gentle thrusting, he nips at your earlobe before pulling his fingers from you.

You peer back over your shoulder to see him slathering his hard cock with the balm, pumping it as his skin shines glossy in the morning light. He turns over to lay against your back.

Arthur guides his cock against your opening and gently presses the tip into you, his hand leaves his length and immediately searches for yours as he throws his arm over your waist.  He finds it and interlaces your fingers as he kisses the back of your neck as you try to relax yourself.

He presses forward, the first inch of him entering you through the tight ring of muscle, which spasms slightly at the intrusion. You gasp as his cockhead becomes sheathed within you, stretching you out.

“Okay?”

You shake your head, unable to make a sound, as you squeeze your fingers between his hard. Yes, it hurts, actually, it burns, but in a way that leaves you wanting, aching for more. He carves a space out for himself that no man has been before.

He slides in another inch. Christ, you could swear you feel protruding veins on his shaft you’re so tight and sensitive around him. 

He’s about halfway in when he wrests the arm underneath you past the curve of your waist, moving his hand to cup upward toward your pelvis, immediately pressing it between your thighs, seeking out your clit to rub against it. You cannot help but moan aloud before catching yourself as he strokes the little nub of your pleasure. As your cunt clenches around nothing, you press backward to take more of him in, leaving him gasping as he catches on and pushes forward, your rear meeting his pelvis as he’s fully sheathed within you. The ring of muscle stretched by his cock quivers delightfully, overpowering the dulling ache in your hips.

Arthur nips at your earlobe again, rubbing slowly at your clit, “God, you’re so tight.” He groans while trying to stay still, “Everythin’ I am not to spill in ya right now.”

“Yeah?” You sigh breathily, your body grows used to him, the pain and burning fading away against the lovely sensation of being full and warm. You squeeze the hand still interlaced with his. A moan escapes you as a spasm in your stretched muscle makes you clench down on him, your whole body shivering as he groans against the clutching.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pulsing his hips gently back and forth, testing you, and you moan receptively.

He growls in your ear as he starts to rock back and forth from a slow, gentle undulation, “Wanna spend inside you- let me, agh, let me this time, darlin’.”

An enticing concept, and your cunt clenches needily as you imagine him letting go inside of you, something he won’t normally do.

“Yes,” you rasp as he starts to slowly thrust his cock back and forth into your ass, “Come inside me.”

He groans in response, picking up speed. Slick sounds of skin slapping on skin fill the air in the tent as he leans his upper body over you and finds your lips as you turn your head toward him. His large, warm hand continues to grope at the apex of your thighs, clit throbbing as he presses his middle finger against it.

You whine into his mouth, loudly, as he fully fucks your ass, and you can feel his rigid shaft throbbing within you, his responding groan telling you he’s close too. With each movement of his cock, the slick, soft skin of him rubs delightfully against the puckered ring at your opening - an overwhelming feeling in its own right. His finger circling your clit sends you down that road of no return.

And at once, he thrusts his hips forward hard, burying himself as deep as he can go, and abruptly sheathes two fingers deep within your cunt, and you come almost immediately, clenching tightly around him. He grunts as you nearly scream into his mouth, his cock twitching within your ass as he jets his hot load within you. You dig your nails into the hand you hold and he squeezes hard in return.

You both come down slowly, panting, and he removes his fingers from you and moves to draw gentle circles on your hip before slowly retracting his cock, a small moan escaping your mouth as he leaves you, his warm spend dribbling out from your quivering, used hole.

Arthur leans over and kisses your cheek softly, “You alrigh’?”

You smile as you nuzzle yourself back into his embrace. “Mhm,” you say with a satisfied sigh.

“Y’may not want to ride today.” He curls into you, chuckling lightly.

You snort under your breath, quite aware of the ache in your hips and rear. 

“Is that your way of sayin’ we’ll be here another day?”

[random-thot-generator]

Better Not to Know + Pt. 2

KYLE GAZ GARRICK x FEM READER

-

Summary: It's been months, but you've not been able to forget the stranger you hooked up with in a night club bathroom. Then again, it hard to forget someone who left such a lasting impression.

Warnings/Tags: no serious warnings, mild profanity, no smut this round, no use of Y/N

(Notes: This one wouldn't leave me alone either, so here's a second installment. Bit of a cliffhanger at the end. Yeah, I'm a literary sadist.)

banners & dividers by: @saradika-graphics

-

March comes in a like a lion, the wind and rain making it a misery to step foot out-of-doors. Small wonder that your boss decides to send you to pick up his dry cleaning for him instead of doing it himself. Why risk ruining his tailored suits and Italian shoes, when he could just send you, who bought your clothes off the clearance rack?

Umbrella clutched in your fist, you hurry along the sidewalk, dodging puddles and people as you make your way to the dry cleaners. You're relieved to see there's not a line, counting your blessings as you step through the door. An automated chime announces your arrival— bing-bong.

"Hullo. Can I help you?" A young woman with colorful tats sleeving her arms and teal hair gives you a customer service smile from behind the counter.

You pull the ticket from the pocket of your raincoat and slide it over with a tight smile. "Just a pick-up."

The young woman picks up the slip of paper, heavily lined eyes scanning the ticket before flickering over your damp, bedraggled form. "Be just a tick, luv," she murmurs, disappearing through a curtained doorway.

With nothing better to do, you drift over to a display of travel-size stain remover sticks, not bothering to turn around when the door opens, a gust of wind fluttering the hem of your coat. The automated chime sounds, drawing Tattoo Girl out of the back with what you assume is your boss' dry cleaning held aloft in one hand.

"Well, hullo, handsome!" she greets her new customer with a wide, toothy smile. "Got your uniform ready. Just need to take care of this lady first."

You don't look back to see who she's addressing, all your attention focused on fishing your boss' credit card out of your pocket. You do absently notice that the new customer smells nice. You catch notes of sandalwood and pine, a hint of musk, definitely masculine and strangely familiar. You also don't fail to notice how Tattoo Girl keeps glancing over your shoulder as she rings you up, the remnants of her wide smile still lingering.

"Here you go," she says, handing over the dry-cleaning bag and receipt, her eyes already focused on her more desirable customer.

"Thanks," you mutter, drawing the bag over the counter and draping it over your arm. Pulling the sides of your coat together, you turn, curious eyes flicking up to catch a glimpse of the man who has so distracted the pretty cashier, then almost trip over your own feet as you stumble to a halt.

"No bloody way," you breathe in a shocked whisper, staring up at the face that's been haunting you for the last five months.

His eyes widen at the same time yours do, recognition clear in his expression. "Christ, I don't believe it," he mutters, a mystified smile curving his sensuous lips. "It's really you."

You feel the same way. You can't believe it's really him, the gorgeous bloke from the club, Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous himself. "Um— wow. H-Hi."

His soft brown eyes register surprise but also pleasure as they lock with yours and his mega-watt smile appears. "Long time, no see, pet. How ya been?"

You gaze up at him dumbfounded, shaken all the way down to your sensible shoes. It's really him. Holy shit! "I, uh... I'm g-good. And you?" Christ! When did you develop a stammer?

He steps closer, his smile turning into something softer and intimate. "Been doin' alright." His eyes dart over your face, taking you in as if he still can't believe you're real. "This is bloody mad, innit? You wouldn't believe how many times I've..." He lets his words trail off, shaking away his dazed expression. "Ah, never mind. 'M just beyond chuffed to see ya again, pet. You look— lovely."

At least he's pleased to see me again, you think. That's a good sign, isn't it? You adjust the dry-cleaning bag in front of you, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Tattoo Girl clears her throat, drawing your attention back to the counter. You glance over to see a perturbed little frown on her face, her eyes bouncing back and forth between you and the gorgeous man standing by your side.

"Oh! Sorry," you apologize, stepping away from the counter. You glance back up at him, feeling flustered and more than a little overwhelmed. Gripping the dry-cleaning bag closer to your body, you ignore the fact that you're probably wrinkling your boss' clothes.

"Ha. Making a right nuisance of myself, aren't I?" you murmur with a nervous titter. "It was, um, nice seeing you again, uh..." You give him a sheepish little grin, feeling terribly awkward and thoroughly embarrassed. "I-I'm so sorry. I don't think I ever got your, uh... name." God, how embarrassing...

He shuffles his feet and grins, looking a bit sheepish himself. "It's, uh, it's Kyle," he answers in a soft voice, holding out his hand. "Kyle Garrick." He dips his chin down to meet your eyes, giving you a teasing little smirk. "I don't think I got your name, either."

Taking his hand, you utter your name with a dazed expression as his touch sends warm tingles of awareness shooting up your arm. Neither one of you let go until the Tattoo Girl clears her throat again and sniffs in irritation.

Kyle's brows tick together in mild irritation as he shoots a quick look in her direction, then flicks his gaze back to you. "Would ya mind waiting while I take care of this? It'll just take a moment," he says, sounding anxious. "I'd really like to catch up with ya, maybe buy ya lunch or a coffee?"

Your head bobs in eager agreement. "Yeah, sure. I've got time."

Honestly, you didn't, but to hell with your boss. This is far more important to you.

Stepping out of the way, you wait by the door for him, your mind racing. As you stare at his broad back, your teeth worry at your bottom lip, wondering what he will have to say, then fret over what you're going to say to him. Is he just hoping to hook up again or does his interest go deeper than that? The way he's acting, it seems like it's more than that, but who knows? It's not like you really know him that well. Or at all, really. Jesus, this is nerve-wracking...

By the time Kyle has paid for his dry cleaning and is turning around, you have worked yourself up into a jittery mess. His smile dims as he takes in your nervous expression, concern plain on his face.

"Ya alright, pet?" he asks, stepping close to grasp your elbow. "You look like you're about to be sick."

Shaking your head, you offer him a weak smile. "No, no, I'm fine. I just feel a bit peckish," you lie, not wanting to make a scene. You can see Tattoo Girl staring daggers at the two of you, a petulant frown on her face. "Could we go ahead and get that coffee now? I think I need to sit down."

"Yeah, of course, love," Kyle murmurs, caressing your arm with a worried look. "C'mon, let's go."

He takes your umbrella from your numb fingers and opens the door, holding it for you as he snaps the brolly open over his head. Lifting his arm, he lays it across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he shifts the umbrella to shield you both from the rain. Casting another worried glance down at you, he leads you to a nearby sandwich shop and quickly ushers you inside.

"Here we go," he murmurs, guiding you over to a table. He takes the dry-cleaning bag from you and drapes it over the back of a chair with his own. "Here, love. Let me take your coat," he offers as he steps behind you, and you're so flustered that you let him slip the coat from your shoulders before realizing your mistake. Quaking in your shoes, you turn to face him.

Kyle stands frozen, his mouth open to say something, his eyes now riveted on your waistline. You glance down as well then stare up into his shocked face, your hands going to your stomach to splay over the gentle swell of your baby bump.

A pained grimace twists your features as you whisper in a shaky voice, "I suppose I should explain."

-

part 1 part 3

[lorei-writes]

Upholstery

Cyran x Maid!Reader Fluff/Comfort ~1k

The three times Cyran comes back, all the same yet different.

Content Warnings: injury, blood (implied)

The settee near sighed, surprised by the weight it was so forced to accept; nevertheless, it still embraced its duty and the weary knight it came to serve, plush cushions lulling tired limbs. Cyran closed his eyes. His throat bobbed as it swallowed another thick complaint. He let it go, however, released his aching arms from the clutches of mandatory unrest – the velvet curtains were thicker than any armour, any shield, and he felt safe while enveloped in their shade.

The settee near sighed, surprised by the weight it was so forced to accept; nevertheless, it still embraced its duty and the weary knight it came to serve, plush cushions lulling tired limbs. Cyran closed his eyes. His throat bobbed as it swallowed another thick complaint. He let it go, however, released his aching arms from the clutches of mandatory unrest – the velvet curtains were thicker than any armour, any shield, and he felt safe while enveloped in their shade.

The door opened soundlessly.

Cyran did not leave his post.

A click and a clack, a servant’s shoes tapped away at the floor. The carpet briefly muffled their steps, only for the sound to return with ringing of a regiment of rings dragged along the curtain rod. Cyran’s brow creased.

“Five more minutes?”

“Not a minute more,” you replied, hands propped at your hips. “You reek, Sir Rose. Stay there any longer and the stench will penetrate the upholstery so thoroughly I will not be able to remove it, not even in a hundred of years.”

“But —”

The tapping intensified to cease in a blink of an eye. As lithe as you were, you faced him with all of your maid-ly might. It was only becoming of the headservant in service of the Third Prince of Rhodolite, Clavis Lelouch. “Should I hold it against you? Until the end of my – or your – days?”

No arguments could have been made. As fatigued as a caravan horse at the brink of its destination, Cyran ran his hand across his face to then brush back his dishevelled hair. He stretched out his arms and kicked his legs, red lights of the setting sun tainting the black leather of his boots. Cyran towered above you as he stood, yet as calloused as his palms were, as heavy as the sword at his hip was… there was no threat to him, those mellowed eyes that stared at you so incessantly betraying no signs of aggravation either.

“Well then.”

“Then —”

A clack and a click, and you couldn’t help but watch him leave, to notice the lightness to his step, some innate nimbleness that he possessed even in this state. You pursed your lips.

“Sir Rose!”

A hand at the door knob, Cyran looked over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“That purple…”

He rubbed at the stain on his cheek, neither exasperated nor amused, or much rather, locked somewhere perfectly between the two. “Prince Clavis,” he not-explained.

“… it looks good on you,” you whispered, but that he hadn’t heard. Footfall marched on down the corridor and you were left alone, the settee unharmed

***

Another day came, another night fell. The sun and the moon remained the same, however, as did the drawing room and the settee, and at least superficially, you and Sir Rose too. You lit a candle before setting it down on the table. Armed in soft cloth, you approached the window, a basin waiting at the sill your ammunition.

“It’s the first time I’m seeing a palace maid wash windows after the dark.”

You drew the breath in. Sharply. “Your eyes must not be working properly then, Sir Rose. It is most ordinary.”

“If you say so.”

When against the pitch black darkness of the night, glass can become mirror-like, provided that a bit of light lends it a hand. Water splashed as you wrung the excess out of the cloth. A shiver skipped along your spine and you begun your polishing, strange hesitation shackling your hands. It was unthinkable, most incomprehensible… so you pressed the cloth to the pane, dabbed the sweat off the reflection of Cyran’s brow. The knight reclined in his seat. He closed his eyes, as if merely squinted to let them rest, and took a deep breath. Wide shoulders lowered evenly at a long exhale and his hair seemed more brown rather than red, almost as if extinguished by the hurdles of the long day.

“Sir Rose?” you inquired, your hand frozen mid-caressing the glass.

“What is it?”

“Ashen shades do not suit you too well.”

“Am I offending your sense of aesthetic again?” Cyran laughed. “This will not ruin the upholstery.”

“You’d be wise to rest properly. Go and sleep,” you insisted.

“I refuse to be lectured by the only maid working the night shift.”

Water splashed as you let go of the cloth. “So you will go if I go? Then go! Go!”

Why did you scream? You did not know.

***

Cyran sat in the settee again, although it was also as if it had never happened before. As if you had never seen him before… Although perhaps you hadn’t. Not like this.

“You should be in the infirmary now, not here. That’s too much red for your complexion to look healthy.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t been through. I’ve got treated already.”

“But you’re still hurting!” you shouted despite your best intentions to remain calm.

“Then don’t throw me off the settee this time,” Cyran laughed. He laughed, and there was fire in his eyes, smouldering and longing, and a hint of fear in his voice, and even the blood that refused to leave the trenches of his nails seemed to ignite and —

And you yourself felt so cold as you cradled his head against your chest, perhaps taking on some of the frost that threatened to take him away. His hair hung lose over his shoulder and you brushed it away, coiled the strands around you fingers like copper wire. He was there in flesh and bones, real and physical unlike the reflection you’d nearly lost.

“I have one request to ask of you, Cyran,” you uttered after a moment of thought.

“Not ‘Sir Rose’?”

“No. Just Cyran.”

“Then ask away.”

“Never cease trying to ruin the upholstery, I beseech you,” you whispered, his good arm raising to embrace you by the waist the sole reply.

--

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[diamandodusto]

LURKING IN (ONE SHOT EXCERPT from "The Spider's Daughter")

Summary:

At times, Jarlaxle would execute some orders coming from his birthgiver, otherwise called his mother (though he considered her none). And this time, as numerous other ones, he did. Yet, it turned out different, and perhaps more than he expected himself. [Part of a chapter from "The Spider's Daughter".]

Read on AO3 : Link

Dedicated to @lunastrophe who is such a resource and goes to me concerning the drows and helps unconsciously tons to write this book ! A big thank-you.

Characters : Jarlaxle Baenre, Original Female Drow Character

Genre : General

Warning : Matriarchal extremist behaviour, and overrall drow usual content. As well, it is the uncorrected version compared to the official one, please, ignore the perhaps few typos that remained.

To read, click on the button!

Have fun!

LURKING IN 

"To betray, you must first belong."

Blade against blade, not so far away from each other’s throats, the drow could feel Jarlaxle’s breath, aching from the effort against hers, that was much dispatched between deep inhales that one could distinct as a sign of exhaustion. Wylanda was distressed, none tried to kill her before, even less of a man. How stupid he was, she thought. Poor male thought he could get away with her murder, she, a daughter of the spider. Jarlaxle chuckled, it didn’t come from his belly, but a distinctive low roar from the depth of his very own throat. “You… remain quite as sharped, as much your blade against my flesh is.”

“This is what one can get from attempting to harm me.”

“Will you kill me then, Priestess ? For you are so young and lifeful, ressourceful in your own shenanigans.”

She laughed at his answer, noticing the forced tone on her title. It could only be fair, this, alone, separated them. It created a gigantic gap between the two, if not only for their genders to be socially settled as unpairable. “I’ll admit the gesture was quite daring, however vain. You know me better than to try getting a toll upon my life.”

“I’ll take the compliment.”

It was clear he should remain honest.

None of them moved, looking at each other’s deep set of crimson eyes, glowing almost in the dark as Wylanda was the first one to release the blade just as he did. “How many times we’ll play this game until we settle this ?” he asked. His mother would not stop commissioning his services until her head was delivered on a silver plate, but the ultimate secret of Good Matron Yvonnel knew better that it was nearly impossible for him to kill Wylanda.

“Until one of us bleed on the other’s silver.”

Wylanda removed herself, getting on her legs as she continued to tower him, still laying on the cold tiles of the Mizzrym’s bedchamber. He didn’t stay as such for long, though, preferring to be equals to her, even if he now dominated her in height, which bothered her. Displeased, even. It was a circular room, her bed was close to a wall, enligheted by faerie fire of hues of green, purple, blue. Turquoise shades gleaming. The rug he now walked on, bore the symbol of a web crossing across in stitches of most delicateness. A mannequin of marble wore a white dress, multiple books displayed on the desk nearby with an inkpot and a feather. The curtains were thick enough to cover the constant glow from Narbondel. The stained glass-windows sketching fundamental figures of the matriarchal society of the dark elves. And decors of most finerie.

On the very ground, strictly opposite, a harp with a seat, the cords made of spiderwebs as well, carved within the obsidian in shapes and softly filled in with sparks of gold here and there, and jewels of all wealthiness as well-showed on her dresser.

Jarlaxle thought that he did not ever step in her quarters, not even once. Despite the many times he had infilatred the Mizzrym household, he never actually succeded to enter here for the sole reason he didn’t have a reason to.

He found it rather ironic, considering how violent the woman could become, for she had such taste in decoration and personalisation. “Are you done?”

“Does my presence disturb you, Priestess ?”

She sighed, crossing her arms just underneath the corsetage of her dress. He had a smirk on his face, placing back correctly his eyepatch.

Jarlaxle wasn’t specially disappointed he had failed, in fact, he didn’t put it all in his attempt. Not even once. He had enough curiosity to stop himself and the mercenary did not quite believe either that he could get a hand upon her in general. Not anymore, she was way to careful now that she obtained so much. As the vain woman she was. “The fact that you vividly breath does tend to upset me.”

But cunning Jarlaxle was upsetting to anyone who did come to know him rather well. “Still after all those years ?”

Wylanda arched an eyebrows and walked around, sitting down on her own dressing table, their reflection within the mirror as she grabbed her brush to pass it thoroughly into her snowed-curly mane. “You are entertaining enough to make me tolerate your existence.”

Jarlaxle wasn’t used to acquint such domestic casualties, not even in his own household. Whether was it Gromph and his experimenting, Triel and her scheming, Yvonnel and her directions, or worst : Quenthel and her cruelty, He did not see often a woman so calmly react after an attempt of murder. Sure, it was at least the tenth time, but she never did riot against his very own life.

It was a sort of… Amusement to her. A disturbance, an annoyance she made him believe she was contended to see happenning. An irritant sensation, however displeasing that scratched to her very brain. Jarlaxle was the maestro of it all, just as he led the shenanigans of the dark elves. But he did not direct her.

And this, he appreciated. Some people, actually going against him and knowing their boundaries to his masterisations. He never looked at Wylanda that closely, never did observe her physique in all those years with such little distance. Therefore, it was now time for him to notice the double fringe of thick black eyelashes, trimmed dark eyebrows which the slant’s made her seem quite unapproachable, the smoothest appearance of her dark complexion, but also the magenta dress she was wearing which covered only her most feminine parts, A best was solidifying the tie, a spider with a gleaming ruby in its center, and each of its legs holding on an attach. There was as well a veil in shades of lilac, made out of thin lace. A couple pair of earrings were hanging on her pointed ears and, bracelets blinging and her Priestess’s necklace laying freely until her developed’s chest crevace.

“A could pass behind you and slit your throat while you are detangling all of that.”

“You could, but you won’t.”

“In such a moment, it lacks your usual carefulness.”

“Don’t make it seem as if you planned on trying again so soon, you might be a good liar, just as I am a good perceiver.”

He responded in a whisper, holding the point of his hat and caressing its feather in a gentlemany-way. “I didn’t doubt of it a mere second, Wylanda.” There was absolutely no reason in the world Jarlaxle was allowed to call her by her name, even less as a male. No matter how much power and control he held over the City and its population, the drow woman wasn’t known to tolerate any slights without repercussion, though she possessed a sense of humour. But, Jarlaxle was different enough for her to thrill against the way he clapped his tongue against his palet each time the middle part of her blase came out. That singular “L” that didn’t roll, but how his lips half-opened when he pronounced it.

“I could get you whipped to blood for just employing the mere significance of my name.”

“I’d bestow.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

He smiled again, perfectly aware their power play was harmless, or perhaps it was not. There was always a sensation in his stomach, an instinct that told him to depart as soon an opening showed itself before him, no matter how much he wanted to push this far, he could not risk it all for the sake of pure amusement. Jarlaxle was smarter than this. Nonetheless, that did not restrain him from walking just behind her and towering further as she was seating in her chair built upon adamantine and carved just as her harp watching over them, a few inches away.

She did not appreciate this either, to be submitted. He could sort of a blade from who-knows-where and slice her skin until she’d shred to the ground. Her blood coloring the already dark tiles. But, Jarlaxle did not. Instead, a silence installed itself within the room, in which they looked at both their respective reflections. His hand on the back of the seat, taking ease and leaving a bit of his weight on it whilst she remained there. Wylanda did not attempt to understand why she did not already made him leave, instead, she watched herself, for a couple of seconds, She did reflect, observing her features intensely, then the ones of the mercenary.

Always flamboyant, Jarlaxle wore his short vest, still his hat and eyepatch resting on his skin. His ashen skin discovered, she found him stupid to expose such an amount of complexion near the priestresses who would harm a male just for the act of simply breathing. Or, perhaps was it because she knew herself she wasn’t the only one who could. He had that superficial grin on his thin lips, ever so confident, curved into a smile she could not describe the nature of.

Always a scheme behind his sole, showing, red eye.

The drow was well-aware he must’ve had already ten ways ahead to depart if their exchange was to go south.

But, that, at the end of the line : none would win.

He bent, his body distorded in two as his lips were now near her ear, purring like a cat on one’s lap as he approached her even further. There, she could smell the musk and the dark wood’s scents on his skin. Whilst, him, could appreciate the florals and surfaces fruits she sprayed upon hers. Their conversation could not be heard, if not by a spell, a supernatural or someone close enough to witness their discussion.

“That is indeed true, Wyla.”

“Why do you stay as close, for you, to hate our Mother, the Queen of Spiders ? Am I not all you despise, a woman who wields power as you, your words ? The epitome of your sufferings ?”

Again, his chuckle that came to her ears sounded melodic and terribly sardonic all at ones, perfetctly aware of all their differences and how they could be alike but so much unpairable. That did not bother him, instead, he rolled his hand underneath the veil resting on her thin shoulder, grabbing the rounded part in his hand. The other one still supporting his weight. His skin was fresh, which made sense considering he wasn’t much covered.

“Near danger is where I live best, and what inspires the songs our bards are singing, dear. Further more, dare I say you are not devoid of good sense. It’s endearing indeed.”

“Did you just insult my sisters in our Goddess ?”

He hovered, sneaked even closer as his hand then reached her hair to place it on her back, leaving free space for him to invade. Jarlaxle liked their game, their very own very of the cat and the mouse. “I would rather say I valued you over them: isn’t that more flattering this way, Priestess?”

Against all odds, she maintained her seriousness, by all will restricting her body from shivering at the way his voice speaks to her, rolling in their language as he did not detach once his eyes from their reflections, making sure she would not attempt a foolish act of retaliation against him, for her blade wasn’t so far away, and she could martially defend herself very well. Even burn him to death, if she ever wished to. Jarlaxle found magic fun, for using the elements as weapons, but none found better way at exploiting it, than the Priestess of Lolth herself.

“Your arrogance will be your downfall, for you are walking on a thread.”

“Danger is what inspires me best, and what behold before me is quite the muse.”

She turned her eyes to his, her head shifting as she could now feel his breath against her very face. They did not speak furthermore, as Jarlaxle’s remained there.

It lingered for a while, just in one another’s gaze. She could feel a knot in her stomach forming, a tight tie that remained within her very center and a fire ablazed within her body. But, she did none. Instead, his hand slowly walked up to her throat, her jugular rolling against his artistic and gracile gloved fingers. She let him do so, freely, though careful he would try to strangle her the moment after he decided so. Her skin was smooth, dancing under his hand, and Jarlaxle was more than happy to smell the essence of the perfume she wore, yet, he didn’t set apart from her eyes. She could use of a hair pin to pierce through his own carotide, or break his neck with mere strength.

“In less than an hour you offended all the rules our society settled for you males to submit yourselves to.” She whispered as well, her words falling against his lips as the peak of their noses touches barely. Jarlaxle’s hand moved until her chin, which he grabbed to maintain her in his grasp.

“Offensive was my very birth.”

She smiled at that. True, telling a woman she had a risk of bearing a male was enough of an insult on his own, but it was even worse if this was indeed the case. Born a third son, he wasn’t even meant for survival, but all in his dreams Jarlaxle saw the reminiscence of his existence. Though, he was indeed much happy to be alive to see all he was witnessing, all he’s traveled and all the achievements in his own record. Including holding Wylanda Mizzrym the way he did.

For she was rather untamed.

Without warning, she left her seat, pushing back his hand and the distance between them for a short while, before it was Jarlaxle’s himself who stayed near her. A mad man, Wylanda thought. One who complied in the danger of it all. As if an owlbear has made its nest inside a cavern full of driders. “What rule will you butcher next for your own amusement and pettiness ?” He didn’t answer to that, however she could spot he was displeased she left her initial position. Now equals again and full of her capacities. The Mercenary did not if he actually liked that or despised the mere thought of her turning away, again.

He did not leave, not even when he watched her quickly looking at her dagger nearby, just in case. But he would not harm her, except if his life was truly on line. They could not kill each other.

The drow walked towards the woman, not answering her question just as of yet. He wanted to look at her, to see her true. To witness something else, to catch on a difference he could exploit for his own profit, his own satisfaction. Jarlaxle was content with the fact he almost baffled her aura of steadiness, like a slap on the cheek placed singularly.

What else he’d butcher, she asked ?

Jarlaxle was no butcher, he was a prudent assassin who wielded his blade like none did, dancing, doing a tango constant with death. Wylanda did not move an inch, meddling as always as she waited for his answer. To do so, in wrapped one arm around her thin waist just at the exact same place her belt was. His best bet and angle.

Wylanda shivered at his sudden arrogance, but she did not like that. In fact, none had been volatile enough for her to feel such an insurgance of deep lust. Almost longing of their usual plays of tricks and games. Thus, when his forehead hit hers, calmly, but controlling, she did smile back.

And more so when his other hand grabbed her face and he slammed his own lips to hers, eating her flesh. Now flushed from all his bites, Jarlaxle pushed her with his strength to the nearest wall, as his hands were now fully resting on each side of her slim face. He danced, for long, searching for her mutinous tongue to waltz with. Her own fingers were resting on the flesh of his shoulder, grabbing to his vest so he could not move away. She despised that, but she adored it as well. How intoxicating this man was, how poisonous he remained despite not being a son of the spider himself.

He could murder her, at this moment. This was a breech, she thought. Nonetheless, Wylanda wasn’t mad : it was her own fault to succumb to the dandy’s hands and talents. It was also his fault if the same thing was to happen to him. They could not blame one another for this time only.

The knot in her stomach tightened, and now all she felt was this very word : ssinssrigg. The one word to describe the urge to possess, to own, to lust. To long for. One that rolled on the tongue like the Mercenary’s was with hers. Emptied of pure emotions, but only villainy and possessiveness, one the drows were taught at the very beginning of their adolescence to match their own instincts.

When they departed one from another, breaths panting for her, not for him, her gaze turned bloodied and deadly as Wylanda realised what had just happened. She denied the way her wramth called for his name, she ignored it royally as the Mercenary looked down at her figure, his shadow hovering on her smaller frame. “I should struck you down for what you have done.”

“Perhaps,” He whispered, so full of himself. Pretentious even in his own certitude. “But you won’t.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, his own lips flushed due to their contact, she said nothing, but the rage that consumed her was palpable for the slight he had committed.

The white-haired woman did not focus one second on her own anger towards herself for never yielding fully the blade against him. For butchering all the rules of her mistress. But, most importantly : to never desire stopping this futile dance between them two. This play they had, pending since years now. She pushed him away, her white curls flowing away as she walked onwards, trying to hide the subtle fastened breaths that came out of her lips. Jarlaxle was no fool : Wylanda was aware that he did notice. That his keen eye could not escape the sight that was to behold before him. To see her so… disrupted, flabbergasted by his own demeanour. She did not possess much control over him, she realized. In fact, almost none.

And she vowed to fight against that.

Instead, she pulled herself together and turned decent again, shoulders back and straight, walking out as the double doors slammed against the wall, leaving the mercenary alone to taste the sweet flavour of the ghost of her lips against his.

He’ll devour her.

But at the time being, a new game had just began.

And he intended to win.

[dubailaundryblog]

Choosing the Right Professional Curtain Cleaning Service in Dubai?

You might wonder why Expert curtain cleaning is necessary. Curtains can accumulate a lot of dust, allergens, and stains over time. cleaning services use specialized equipment and techniques to remove these, improving your indoor air quality and extending the life of your curtains. They can handle all types of fabrics, ensuring each curtain is cleaned thoroughly and safely.

But with so many options available, how do you choose the right one? In this guide, we’ll walk you through the essential steps to finding a reliable and experienced curtain cleaning service that meets your needs. From checking credentials to understanding pricing, we’ve got you covered.

Checking Credentials and Experience

First, you want to ensure the company you choose is legit. Check their credentials and experience. How long have they been in business? Do they have certifications or training in curtain cleaning? A company with a solid track record and the right credentials is more likely to handle your curtains with care. Experienced cleaners know the ins and outs of different fabrics, stains, and cleaning techniques, giving you peace of mind.

Reading Reviews and Testimonials

Next, take some time to read reviews and testimonials. What do other customers say about their experience? Positive reviews can give you confidence in your choice. Look for feedback on their cleaning quality, customer service, and reliability. If most people are happy with their services, chances are you will be too. Don’t just focus on the ratings—read the comments to understand what makes the service stand out.

Comparing Service Packages

Not all curtain cleaning services are created equal. Compare what different companies offer. Do they provide a full range of services, including stain removal, fabric protection, and repairs? Are their packages customizable to meet your needs? By comparing service packages, you can find the best fit for your curtains. Some services might even offer eco-friendly cleaning options, which are a great choice for both your home and the environment.

Assessing Customer Service

Good customer service is a must. How a company treats you can say a lot about their overall service. Are they friendly, helpful, and responsive? Do they answer your questions clearly and promptly? Excellent customer service makes the entire process smooth and pleasant. From scheduling your appointment to delivering your clean curtains, you want a company that values your satisfaction.

Understanding Pricing and Value

Finally, understand the pricing and what you’re getting for your money. Cheaper isn’t always better. Look for a service that offers good value—a fair price for high-quality work. Ask for a detailed quote and check what’s included. Are there any hidden fees? Is pickup and delivery part of the package? A transparent pricing structure helps you avoid surprises and ensures you’re getting the best deal.

Making the Right Choice

Choosing the right curtain cleaning service in Dubai doesn’t have to be stressful. By checking credentials, reading reviews, comparing packages, assessing customer service, and understanding pricing, you’ll be well on your way to making an informed decision. Trust your instincts and take the time to choose a service that will treat your curtains with the care they deserve.

Choosing the right professional curtain cleaning service in Dubai is an investment in your home’s cleanliness and your family’s health. By taking the time to select a reputable curtain cleaning services, you ensure your curtains are in good hands.

[carpetcleaningrandwick]

Curtains And Blinds Cleaning Randwick- 24*7 Expert Services

Curtains and Blinds Cleaning Randwick provides expert cleaning services to refresh your window coverings. Our skilled team uses specialized techniques and gentle cleaning agents to remove dust, stains, and allergens, restoring the beauty and functionality of your curtains and blinds. Whether it's delicate drapes or sturdy blinds, we handle each with care to ensure a thorough and effective cleaning process. Trust us to deliver professional results, leaving your window treatments looking fresh and revitalized in Randwick.

[abudhabilaundryservices]

Perfect Press: Elevating Your Style with Our Ironing Service in Abu Dhabi

Welcome to the vibrant hub of Abu Dhabi, where the importance of looking your best is understood. At our Ironing Service in Abu Dhabi, we're dedicated to making sure your clothes always impress, leaving you feeling confident and polished for every occasion.

Crafting Garment Perfection

In our care centre, our skilled team lavishes attention on each garment. We know the ins and outs of keeping clothes looking their best. Tough stains? Consider them conquered! We restore your clothes to their former glory while preserving their quality.

Tailored Care for Every Fabric

From careful drying to precise ironing, every piece gets special treatment. Delicate fabrics? Handled with tender care. Our ironing methods ensure your clothes maintain their integrity and last longer.

Top-notch Quality Checks

Quality is our priority. Each garment undergoes a thorough check at every stage, ensuring only the best reaches your closet.

Personalized Convenience, Effortless Service

We understand everyone has different preferences. Whether you like your clothes neatly folded or hung, we'll return them just the way you like, making your life easier.

Efficiency and Elegance United

Our convenient pickup and delivery service seamlessly integrate into your hectic schedule, allowing you to reclaim valuable time. Entrust us with your laundry responsibilities, enabling you to concentrate on what truly holds significance.

If you require assistance at any point during the process, our dedicated customer support team is available to provide help. Our utmost priority is to ensure that your journey is seamless and free from any stress.

At our Ironing Service in Abu Dhabi, we transform every fabric into a mark of sophistication. With our stain removal expertise, delicate care, personalized service, and dedicated support, your clothes will always reflect sheer elegance.

[aohendo]

Editing update!

30,209 words rewritten. Approximately 23% of the way through draft two!

Things changed so far: addition of a short rags to riches plotline (with a very unwilling rags); Kiris now doesn't trust Aris in the slightest; the yarlyk (the thing they're all competing for) is mentioned before chapter 30; general worldbuilding shown more; the journal thing is also explained before chapter 30; Kiris and Iiriok know each other well enough to lightly banter, with it being heavily implied that Iiriok knows Kiris has learned magic (forbidden for princes); 'L Tuola Turre is introduced pre-chapter 17ish; Batar is introduced via murder.

Have a deleted first draft scene for getting through that paragraph!

WC: 547

Original location and context: chapter nine, just after Kiris arrives in Tesendi, but before the official start of the Turre's Competition. Aris and the guards have been trying to get an uncooperative Kiris ready for his first appearance as prince of Strauv, to little success.

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @whimsyqueen @shrunkupthejams @cactusmotif @on-noon @houndsofcorduff

(first speaker is Aris)

“I meant no disrespect.”

Kiris’ throat felt too sticky to do anything, and he shrugged, clenching his hands over his arms despite all the layers of fabric.

“You must understand, my prince, that you are as I have said. What you are only seeing now, we have seen in you since Prince Nelovskevouk’s recoronation. You are—and will continue to be—a credit to Strauv.” All the words were there, all of them in the right place, but when Kiris finally dragged his eyes from the curtains Aris’ gaze was focused on how tight Kiris had crossed his arms. “My prince,” he continued, slowly, “is there something else I should know about?”

“I tried to escape the night of the bandits,” Kiris said, flippantly. He had to distract him. He scoffed, and it felt forced and painful. “If Nelovskevouk hadn’t been there I would have.”

A twitch in Aris’ brow. “I know.”

Kiris nodded, but his hands were clammy. He withdrew them and curled them into fists, because he didn’t want to stain the fabric in fear. “I’ll try again.”

“I know.”

He huffed. “Then why bother?”

Aris’ eyes were soft green, rimmed in brown, his brow weary with time. Salt peppered his hair, not streaking it grey, but still showing the threads of the years he had seen. His skin was Novgor pale but sun-weathered, and a permanent tan-line from his helmet striped his nose. How long, Kiris wondered, has he been in Martarez’s service?

“Just as Prince Nazvili is my prince, so, too, are you. It is my job to keep you safe. Where you go—wherever it may be—I follow. No matter the circumstance. Do you understand?”

Kiris smiled. “I understand.” It wasn’t kind, and he didn’t pretend it was. Here was his captor, the keys to freedom secured to his belt. “I have a duty to Strauv,” he said, stepping away from the window. “I have worth. It’s your job to see that I remain useful.”

“If that is how you choose to understand it, my prince.”

“There is no ‘choice,’” Kiris snapped. “It’s how it is. If I can’t be of service to someone, somehow, then I’m selfish. Worthless. And I’ve been damned too long for a good person like you to allow it to continue.”

No one had a good response when he proclaimed it for what it was. He was the Prophet; what he saw was truth. That’s all he was good for.

Aris pushed himself to his feet as if it hurt him to do so even though he was spry as any of the other guards. “My prince,” he said, carefully and tightly, and somehow so, so worn, “I fear you will be late to dinner if we delay any longer.”

Just another captor in a long line of captors. Kiris didn’t bother fixing his expression before stepping from behind the partition into the rest of his sleeping quarters. The tunic was his Temple robe; the circlet his shackles, burning into his arms from being tightened too much, again, just a little too far, each day, a quarter turn more until he repented. Until he became useful.

What more could dinner hold, that forced Prophecy hadn’t already made him face?

At least he would have worth again.

[nicetown]

Ways To Keep Your Soundproof Curtains Clean

Soundproof curtains are an excellent addition to any home, providing privacy and insulation from noise. However, like any other type of curtain, they need to be cleaned regularly to maintain their appearance and functionality. Here are some tips for keeping your soundproof curtains clean.

Vacuuming Vacuuming is an effective way to remove dust and dirt from your soundproof curtains. Use the upholstery attachment on your vacuum cleaner and gently run it over the surface of the curtains. Be careful not to apply too much pressure, as this can damage the fabric. Vacuuming should be done once a week or more frequently if you have pets or live in a dusty area.

Spot cleaning If you notice a stain on your soundproof curtains, it's important to act quickly to prevent it from setting in. Use a clean, damp cloth to blot the stain gently. Avoid rubbing the stain, as this can push it deeper into the fabric. If the stain is particularly stubborn, you can use a mild detergent and water solution to clean it. Be sure to rinse the area thoroughly and let it dry completely before using the curtains again.

Washing Most soundproof curtains can be machine washed, but it's important to read the care label before doing so. Some curtains may need to be dry cleaned or hand washed to prevent damage. If the curtains can be machine washed, use a gentle cycle and cold water. Avoid using fabric softeners, as they can reduce the effectiveness of the soundproofing. Hang the curtains to dry, or use a low-heat setting on your dryer.

Ironing Soundproofing curtains can become wrinkled over time, especially if they have been folded or stored for a long period. Ironing can help to remove wrinkles and restore the appearance of the curtains. Use a low heat setting and iron the curtains on the reverse side to prevent damage to the soundproofing material. Be careful not to apply too much pressure or leave the iron in one place for too long, as this can damage the fabric.

Professional Cleaning If your soundproof curtains are particularly dirty or have a stubborn stain, it may be best to have them professionally cleaned. Look for a professional cleaning service that specializes in curtains and upholstery. They will have the equipment and expertise to clean your curtains thoroughly and safely. Be sure to choose a cleaning service that uses eco-friendly and non-toxic cleaning products.

Preventive Measures To keep your soundproof curtains clean for longer, it's important to take preventive measures. Use doormats at the entrances to your home to reduce the amount of dirt and dust that enters. Keep pets away from the curtains, as their fur and claws can cause damage. Also, avoid smoking or burning candles near the curtains, as this can cause discoloration and damage to the fabric.

In conclusion, keeping your soundproof curtains clean is essential to maintain their functionality and appearance. Vacuuming, spot cleaning, washing, ironing, and professional cleaning are all effective methods for cleaning your curtains. Taking preventive measures can also help to keep your curtains clean for longer. By following these tips, you can keep your soundproof curtains looking and functioning at their best for years to come.

[alanshouse-painting]

Preparing Your Home For House Painting

A house paint job can give your home a new and fresh look. It can also breathe life into an older home.

When it comes to painting your home, there are several factors that can affect the cost. Some of these are the type of wall substrate or siding that you have, labor, and the kind of paint.

Interior Painting

Painting your home's interior can give it a fresh, clean look and increase its value. However, before you begin a paint project, there are some preparations you will need to do.

The first step in interior house painting is to inspect your walls for any damage. This includes holes and loose patches of old plaster.

Repairing damaged areas is important because it helps to ensure your new paint adheres to the surface properly.

Another important thing to do is to make sure your wall surfaces are clean and dry. Dirt, oils, chemicals and water can compromise the bond between paint and your surface and will flake off over time.

You should also move furniture away from the walls, if possible. This will help to prevent any paint splatter from damaging the upholstery on your furniture.

Exterior Painting

Painting a house’s exterior is a big job that needs to be done with care and attention. Preparing the surfaces before painting will ensure that paint adheres to the surface and looks great when it’s finished.

Before getting a quote from a painting contractor, walk around your home and see what areas you need to prep. Remove any outdoor fixtures and trim bushes to make it easier for your painters to get around the home.

You should also power wash the exterior to remove any mildew, mold, dirt, or debris. It’s also important to clean the windows and doors before painting.

You should also avoid painting your exterior during rainy weather. If it’s wet, the paint may not dry properly, which can result in blistering and peeling.

Power Washing

If you’re planning to paint your home, power washing is a great way to remove stains and grime before you apply a new coat of paint. This will save you time and money, as well as make your home look fresher.

When used regularly, power washing can also help extend the life of your siding and other materials. It also can clean off weeds, moss, and algae that build up on driveways or other surfaces.

Professional power washers use top-quality equipment to ensure that they’re cleaning your property safely and effectively. They’ll also know what cleaning materials to use and how much pressure to apply to different areas of your property.

Using a power washer on your own comes with greater risk than you might think. It can damage your property if you don’t use the proper techniques or the right equipment. This is why it’s best to call a local professional to handle the task.

Wallpaper Removal

If you have a wallpaper in your house that is outdated or not quite what you want it to be, the time has come to remove it. Fortunately, it can be a fairly simple and easy process with just a little patience.

The first step is to prepare the room where you plan to work on removing the wallpaper. This includes clearing out curtains, outlets, switchplates, and artwork.

Once that's done, cover the floor and baseboards with a drop cloth to protect them from any excess water. Next, tape up the walls with painter's tape to create a watertight barrier for the area.

Then, mix a homemade solution using fabric softener and hot water or distilled white vinegar and hot water to dissolve the wallpaper glue. Apply this mixture to the wall and allow it to soak in for a few minutes. Then, use a scraper or putty knife to peel it up. Repeat this method until the wallpaper is removed.

Alans House Painting - Trusted Home Improvement Contractor

Alan's House Painting is a trusted and experienced home improvement contractor. They specialize in interior and exterior painting, drywall repair and texturing, and pressure washing. Their team is dedicated to providing you with the best painting services possible. They are also licensed to perform commercial and residential work.

Licensing:

All contractors in California must have a valid license with the state’s licensing board, the Contractors State License Board (CSLB). The CSLB is one of the highest-rated boards in the nation and requires applicants to pass a written exam and prove at least four years of experience. It also requires them to carry workers’ compensation insurance and a bond that protects you in the event of a lawsuit.

Insurance:

Ensure your contractor is insured by contacting their insurance provider to verify that they are in good standing and have the required coverages. In addition, make sure they are covered by any other relevant insurance policies that may apply to your home improvement project.

Reviews:

You can find out more about Alan's House Painting by checking their ratings on various websites. You can also leave feedback on their BuildZoom profile and file a complaint with the CSLB if you have a problem. This will help other customers know whether or not they can rely on their service. If you have a positive or negative experience with Alan's House Painting, let us know in the comments section below!

Alan's House Painting PO Box 2125 Davis, CA 95617 (530) 756-8188 https://alanshousepainting.net

[hamlet-laundry]

Understanding the Differences Between Dry Cleaning and Laundry Services

Dry cleaning and laundry services are essential for keeping your clothes clean and well-maintained. However, it can be confusing to understand the differences between the two services. In this blog, we will explain the differences between dry cleaning and laundry services and help you choose the right service for your needs.

Dry cleaning is a specialized cleaning process that uses chemical solvents to remove dirt and stains from clothes. It is an ideal solution for delicate fabrics such as silk, wool, and cashmere, which can be damaged by water and soap. Dry cleaning is also useful for removing tough stains such as grease, oil, and ink.

On the other hand, laundry services use water, detergent, and mechanical action to clean clothes. It is an excellent solution for everyday clothes such as cotton, linen, and polyester. Laundry services can be used to clean clothes, bedsheets, curtains, and other washable fabrics.

When choosing a quality laundry service, there are several factors to consider. Here are the top 5 tips for choosing a quality laundry service:

Quality of service: Look for a laundry service that provides high-quality service. Check for online reviews, customer feedback, and ratings to evaluate the quality of service.

Range of services: Choose a laundry service that offers a wide range of services, including laundry, dry cleaning, ironing, and more. This will ensure that all your laundry needs are met.

Pricing: Compare the prices of different laundry services to find the best value for your money. Look for a service that provides transparent pricing and no hidden charges.

Convenience: Choose a laundry service that offers convenient pickup and delivery options. This will save you time and hassle of dropping off and picking up your laundry.

Customer service: Look for a laundry service that provides excellent customer service. They should be responsive to your queries, provide regular updates, and address any concerns you may have.

At Hamlet Laundry, we are committed to providing high-quality laundry and dry cleaning services to our customers in London. We offer a wide range of services, including laundry, dry cleaning, ironing, and more. Our services are available for all washable fabrics, including wedding dresses, curtains, and rugs.

We offer a convenient online order process through our website and mobile apps. You can easily schedule your pickup and delivery times, track your order, and receive an itemized invoice. We also offer a special discount of 30% on the first order for customers who place their order through our mobile apps.

[lasal-cleaners-davie]

Discover Quality Dry Cleaning Services in Plantation with Lasal Cleaners

In the bustling city of Plantation, California, finding a reliable dry cleaner is essential for maintaining your wardrobe and keeping your clothes looking fresh and clean. Among the myriad of options available, Lasal Cleaners shines as a trusted name in the industry, providing top-notch dry cleaning services to residents and businesses alike. Let's explore why Lasal Cleaners stands out as the go-to choice for all your dry cleaners in Plantation are needed.

Exceptional Quality and Service:

Lasal Cleaners is committed to delivering exceptional quality and service to every customer. With attention to detail and expertise, their team ensures that your garments are cleaned, pressed, and treated with care to maintain their pristine condition. Whether you're looking for dry cleaners in Southwest Ranches, Cooper City, or Weston, Lasal Cleaners provides the same high standard of service across these locations.

Wide Range of Services:

From everyday clothing items to delicate fabrics and specialty garments, Lasal Cleaners offers a comprehensive range of dry cleaners in Plantation and optimal services. Whether it's suits, dresses, formal wear, or household items like curtains and linens, they handle it all with precision and professionalism. Their services extend to dry cleaners in Davie and beyond, making them a convenient option for neighboring areas as well.

Eco-Friendly Practices:

Lasal Cleaners prioritizes environmental sustainability by employing eco-friendly cleaning methods and products. Their commitment to green practices ensures that your clothes are not only clean but also environmentally conscious.

Convenient Pickup and Delivery:

With Lasal Cleaners' handy Pick up and Delivery Plantation offerings, getting your garments cleaned has by no means been easier. Simply agenda a pickup online or through phone, and their group will cope with the rest, saving you time and hassle.

Pick-Up and Delivery in Fort Lauderdale:

In addition to their offerings in Plantation, Lasal Cleaners additionally offers Pick-Up and Delivery in Fort Lauderdale, making sure that even the ones farther out can enjoy the equal level of first rate service and comfort.

Expertise and Experience:

With years of experience in the industry, the team at Lasal Cleaners possesses the expertise and knowledge to handle all types of fabrics and stains. Whether it's removing tough stains or preserving delicate materials, you can trust their professionals to deliver outstanding results.

Conclusion:

When it comes to dry cleaning services, Lasal Cleaners stands head and shoulders above the rest. With a dedication to quality, convenience, and customer satisfaction, they have earned a reputation as the premier dry cleaners in Cooper City. Trust Lasal Cleaners with your garments, and experience the difference firsthand. Whether you're in Plantation, Southwest Ranches, Weston, or Davie, your clothes deserve the best, and Lasal Cleaners delivers excellence with every clean.